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No one will ever guess . . . when you wear this becoming, concealing Doris Dodson Infadorable.
Cleverly draped apron front with adjustable, slashed underskirt keeps your secret perfectly. Crisp, tubbable Aracotton print in peach, blue or lime. Sizes 11 to 17. . . about $11.00.
Write for the name of your local shop. . Doris Dodson, St. Louis 1, Missouri
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BY STELLA RAMP
Richard Conte, of “13 Rne Madeleine”
The case of the man whose magic world was served up to him from a waiter’s tray
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IF anyone had told Nick Conte that he was riding into a magic world that day he boarded the train for Connecticut, he’d have said, “You’re bats in the belfry.” All he knew was that he’d get twenty-five bucks a week, plus tips, for waiting on table.
Way back in 1938 a job at a summer camp was the equivalent of a vacation — if standing on your feet from seven to seven and waltzing the girls around in the social hall at eight, when you were dying to soak your aching feet in Epsom salts, could be called a vacation. It was one way of getting out of the hot grimy dust that was Jersey City and at the end of the summer you could come back with a nice fat bankroll.
Meanwhile he was having fun and meeting lots of people that up until now he had only read about in the newspapers. Like the blond guy with the hom-rimmed glasses who was always playing slow, sad music on the victrola in his room when Nick brought his breakfast on a tray. Clifford Odets. And the pretty girl he had just married who had caused a stir in camp when she came to see him one weekend, Luise Rainer. Imagine, movie stars! They were all regular people though. Take Bobbie and Julie Garfield for instance. Just as friendly as the neighbors back in Jersey City where he came from. For this was the summer the Group Theatre was at the Pine Brook Country Club, where Nick had a job.
He was just another waiter until the night he played an extra in “Waiting for Lefty.” He was nice to have around because he vibrated such a sense of being glad to be alive and he was good looking. Add to this a gift for barbering. He’d learned how from his dad. In his spare time he was cutting the hair of Elia Kazan or Joe Pevney in the back in the little barber shop he’d fixed up for himself.
Then one afternoon all the waiters were called in and told they’d have to report for rehearsal. The Group Theatre needed plenty of extras for “Waiting for Lefty” which was the week’s performance and the boys would have to pitch in and help. Nick griped along with the others. Rehearse. Put grease paint on your face. Stand under hot fights. After a hard day on your feet.
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